


Baby-verse Drabbles

by PandaFlower



Category: Naruto
Genre: Lo I've been caught, M/M, Madara would like his non-existent ovaries to stop exploding, babies doing baby things, may add more drabbles, please and thank you, so has Madara, twitchi is diligently spreading the baby-verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-12 07:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaFlower/pseuds/PandaFlower
Summary: Tobirama is very excited for his baby's first foray into empirical testing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dahtwitchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahtwitchi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Assorted moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17715356) by [dahtwitchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahtwitchi/pseuds/dahtwitchi). 
  * Inspired by [Out of the Fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17715197) by [dahtwitchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahtwitchi/pseuds/dahtwitchi). 
  * Inspired by [The naming of Kura](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17715458) by [dahtwitchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahtwitchi/pseuds/dahtwitchi). 



Madara shuffled and resettled the scrolls in his arms with a grimace, unwilling to linger so long that Tobirama might mock him for dithering yet needing a moment to brace himself before opening the door. For the sake of his dignity, he needed to keep a stern face until he could retreat back to the sanctity of his own office.

Deep breath. Open door. Deposit scrolls with a pithy comment. Do not ogle the Senju doting on his foundling. Leave.

Okay, okay, solid plan, Madara blew his bangs out of his face and jiggled the door open with his elbow.

The plan immediately went out the window when he found Tobirama, not at his desk while his baby snoozed on a shoulder, but kneeling on the floor in front of the high chair usually folded up against the wall with a far too enthralled expression for Madara’s sanity while said baby examined a soft toy between her hands.

Then she threw it hard enough to bounce off Tobirama’s shoulder, squeaking demandingly. Tobirama quickly retrieved the soft cube and handed it back, smiling in a, well, Madara would call it soppy on anyone else, a  _ soft _ manner.

“Senju, what—” Madara started.

“Shh,” Tobirama said without taking his eyes off his baby, who seemed to have finished her inspection of the toy and threw it again, prompting Tobirama to retrieve it. “We’re conducting an important experiment.”

“Um.” Madara tracks the flying toy rather than let his gaze settle on the far too tempting sight of Tobirama crawling to retrieve it. “Doesn’t look it.”

“She’s figuring out object permanency,” Tobirama replied, voice low and soft and almost reverent, his full focus on the baby shaking her soft cube before sticking a plush corner in her mouth. “She takes in the object with three of her senses; touch, taste, and sight. It clearly exists. Yet when she throws it the object stops registering to her senses. So maybe it doesn’t exist anymore? But Daddy keeps giving it back and he can’t do that if doesn’t exist.” Reverence gave way to cooing. “So maybe it does exist when she isn’t looking. She’s not certain yet so she has to test that it’s the same object every time.”

“How...methodical.” Is all Madara can think to say, maybe just a touch awed himself. 

When the toy lands closer to him than to Tobirama, he shuffles the scrolls next to the door and gives the toy back himself. Maybe if he doesn’t look at the stupid Senju he can pretend he isn’t smiling at the happy squeak the baby makes.


	2. Nap Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t wrap a baby in a bubble of quiet, that’s how you give them anxiety.” Tobirama rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to give my baby anxiety, Madara?”
> 
> “What? No!” Madara said hurriedly.

One of the things Madara, and pretty much the entire council for that matter, has had to get used to was Tobirama whipping out a bassinet right in the middle of meetings to lay his baby to sleep rather than take her home or something.

On the one hand, Madara appreciates the sharp reduction in yelling; whether from automatic respect for a sleeping baby, or automatic respect for what Tobirama might do to them if they upset his baby. If it’s the intended effect, it’s delightfully devious. Normally, Madara would approve.

On the other hand, Madara happens to be one of those who shuts up around sleeping babies, and Tobirama— is not. Madara does not understand. How does his little girl sleep through all the noise?

Madara remembers to ask during one meeting that ran long enough to see nap time come and go.

Tobirama gives him a far too amused side eye for his comfort.

“If you treat a baby like every little noise ought to disturb them, you’re just going to teach them to be disturbed,” Tobirama said, gently lifting the little girl out of her bassinet and laying her against his shoulder. She cooed, one chubby fist batting at his tattooed jaw and catching in the short hair under his ear, tugging a bit. To his credit, Tobirama doesn’t even wince.

“It gets pretty loud during meetings though,” Madara pointed out doubtfully. “It’s a wonder it’s never woken her.”

“You can’t wrap a baby in a bubble of quiet, that’s how you give them anxiety.” Tobirama rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to give my baby anxiety, Madara?”

“What? No!” Madara said hurriedly.

“Good,” Tobirama nodded, already turning to rummage through his bag for a bottle just as soft, still sleepy coos turned into wide awake fussing. “She’s just started to sleep through the night. I’d have to kill you for making her backslide.”

Well then. 

Madara turned back to his notes.


	3. The Issue of Names

“—don’t understand why you’re dragging your heels on her name, Tobirama!”

Madara paused, hand on the doorknob, abruptly wondering if he should leave and come back later.

The decision was taken out of his hands when the door was wrenched open and Tobirama was yanking him inside with unexpected ferocity, dozing baby clasped to one shoulder.

“Madara, tell Hashirama he’s being ridiculous!” Tobirama demanded.

“Hashirama, you’re being ridiculous,” Madara obediently parroted. Hashirama usually was, after all.

Hashirama whined, “Oh come on, you don’t even know what we were talking about! I bet you’d agree with me.”

Madara has the distinct feeling he’s about to be drawn into some sibling bullshit. It’s a feeling not unlike, and in fact more akin than he’d welcome, to the feeling he gets when Izuna is about to start some shit for his own amusement. Great.

“You’re being unreasonable!” Tobirama retorted, seemingly ignoring Madara now that he’d fulfilled his purpose. “Most parents get several months to pick a name for their child. So what if it’s been a few weeks? I’m not going to saddle her with the first half-decent sounding moniker to pass my fancy. It’s her life we’re talking about!”

“It’s been a month!” Hashirama exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. “I can’t name her a proper Senju until she has a  _ name! _ I don’t understand what the delay is, you’re usually so quick to name jutsus.”

Madara clapped a hand to his mouth.

“Do not—!” Tobirama began in a strangled tone, then wrestled together enough visible composure to gently hand his baby to Madara to better get up in his brother’s face, angrily pointing. “Don’t you dare compare my daughter to chakra constructs—!”

Madara looked at the sleeping baby cradled carefully in his arms and tried to tell himself he wasn’t melting from the inside out.

He wasn’t successful.


End file.
